


Delicious Distractions

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Harry is distracted and with good reason.





	Delicious Distractions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alafaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alafaye/gifts).



> [Originally published October 10, 2013](http://dracogotgame.livejournal.com/60745.html)

Soft. Full. Plush. Pink.  
  
Harry swallowed and surreptitiously adjusted himself, trying to will away the slew of complimentary adjectives whirling through his frazzled mind. One more second of looking at those gorgeous, tantalising lips and he’d risk bursting into song. Or worse, prose. Not necessarily a bad thing under normal circumstances, if a little mortifying. But right now, he’d best concentrate. No matter how well he got along with his fellow Eighth Year now, if Draco figured out that Harry had wheedled him into tutoring him in Potions  _just_ so he could ogle at his mouth he’d be in for one hell of a tongue lashing.   
  
And not the good kind.  
  
No. That was asking for trouble. Harry was better off putting all thoughts of Malfoy’s perfect, pretty lips at the back of his mind and concentrating on concocting the perfect Moon Draught. Yes. That was the way to go. That was exactly what he needed to…  
  
**Whack!**  
  
“Ow!” Harry yelped as he was subjected to a face-full of  _Chapter 3: Common Beginner Mistakes._ He gaped at the scowling blond, utterly flabbergasted. “What was that about?”  
  
“You’re not listening to me!” Draco accused.   
  
“Was too,” Harry protested weakly.   
  
Draco raised a challenging eyebrow. “Oh? How many drops of the hemlock mixture go into the potion?”  
  
“Um...forty two?”  
  
“Ha!” Draco snapped, pointing a dramatic finger in his face. “I knew you weren’t listening! There’s no hemlock in this potion!”  
  
_And_  busted. Harry wondered when he’d learn to be warier around Slytherins. Even the ones in possession of perfect, sinful lips. Those lips were turned down in a highly displeased sneer at the moment. Draco sniffed disparagingly at him as he gathered his books. “Find someone else to yank around, Potter,” he railed. “If I wanted to waste my time, I’d tutor Goyle. And even  _he_ would know better than to put hemlock in a…”  
  
He kept up his rant as he gathered the last of his notes and flounced off, head held high like an offended peacock. Harry groaned and ran after him, stopping the huffy blond with a hand on his arm.   
  
“Draco, wait. I’m sorry. I just got a bit distracted, is all.”  
  
Draco scowled and tried to free himself. “I assure you, if you find me boring all you need to do is say so, Potter. I’m certainly not going to force my company on you if…”  
  
“It’s not that at all!”Harry protested without thinking. “You’re not boring. If anything, you might be a bit  _too_ interesting.” Some time in the near future, he resolved to master a Self Silencing Spell. He obviously needed one.  
  
It did get Draco’s attention though, so perhaps it wasn’t a  _total_ loss.   
  
“I am?” he demanded warily. “Why aren’t you paying attention then?”  
  
Harry ran an awkward hand through his hair, wondering how he’d walked right into this one. “I’m trying,” he insisted. “It’s just hard.” That much at least, was true. It was most  _certainly_ hard. Despite his awful circumstances, Harry’s inner teenager giggled delightedly at the double entendre.  
  
Draco cocked his head, inviting him to continue making a fool of himself. Harry gamely blustered on. “Maybe if you...you know, didn’t nibble the end of your quill so much or bit at your bottom lip when you’re thinking hard...actually, if the whole biting thing could stop  _entirely_ , that’d be aces. And…”  
  
“Potter.” Draco’s confounded expression just made him look all the more appealing, damn it to hell. “You’re...you’re not making any sense. Are you feeling well? Maybe you need to see Pomfrey or...”  
  
Bugger it all. Like he was ever going to be able to explain it. Harry embraced his inner Gryffindor and crowded into the confused boy’s space, propelling him forward with a firm hand on his nape. Then he proceeded to plant a firm and entirely unmistakable kiss on Draco’s conveniently parted lips.   
  
His unsuspecting victim elicited a short, surprised gasp and Harry went for it. He was a dead man anyway. Might as well find out if those lips tasted as good as they looked. He grabbed Draco by his shoulders and bore down on him again, swiping his tongue against the soft, plump flesh and groaning in delight. It was better than anything he could have imagined. Merlin, Draco tasted so good and his lips felt so soft and full and sodding  _perfect_. He could do this all day. In fact, Harry had no problem doing this for the rest of his life. Forever, even. Until time stood still and the universe…  
  
Draco made a fretful noise in the back of his throat and batted feebly at Harry’s chest.   
  
Oh, right. Breathing. Breathing was important.   
  
Probably to Draco, at least.  
  
The blond in question summarily proved this hypothesis by gasping in a huge lungful as soon as Harry released him. “Merlin, Potter!” he half sputtered, half scolded, fixing hazy, accusing eyes on a sheepish Harry. “Are you trying to kill me?!”   
  
“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, slinging an arm around him to hold him up. Something akin to relief fluttered in his chest when Draco slumped against his shoulder instead of pushing him away. “Are you okay?”  
  
“No thanks to you,” Draco muttered. He lifted his head to regard Harry quizzically. “So...so that’s why you were so distracted?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Harry mumbled, flushing furiously. “I’m sorry I attacked...I mean, it won’t happen again. I’ll find another tutor. You don’t need to worry about...”  
  
A slow smile hinted at Draco’s lips. “Now, let’s not be hasty Potter,” he replied. The husky undertone of his voice sent a new thrill through Harry. Yet another thing on his list of awesome, amazing things Draco’s mouth could do.   
  
The blond smirked and turned so that they were face to face, repaying Harry in kind by crowding into  _his_ personal space. “Where there’s a problem, there’s a solution,” he whispered.  
  
Oh, Harry  _liked_ the sound of that. “What did you have in mind?”

****

“Quick fire round. Brace yourself, Potter. How many times do you need to stir the moon draught? Which phase of the moon is best suited for this potion? And dare I ask, how many drops of hemlock mixture go in the potion?”  
  
“Seven, third and ha ha, you’re hilarious.”  
  
Draco laughed and chucked the book away. He smiled at the smug prat, comfortably settled with his head in Draco’s lap. “Well done, Potter. It would seem that given the right motivation, even you can succeed at Potions.”  
  
“Speaking of motivation,” Potter smirked and his hand drifted to Draco’s nape again. The brush of those calloused capable fingers sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. “You owe me a reward.”  
  
Draco grinned impishly. “I don’t suppose you’ll settle for a gold star sticker?” Potter growled and tightened his hold. Draco grinned and leaned over. “Or I could improvise,” he whispered, brushing his lips against Potter’s again. The kiss was nothing like the last onslaught. It was slow and unhurried, soft and almost chaste. It shouldn’t have set every nerve of Draco's body on fire. But when Potter’s tongue swiped skilfully at his lip and darted into his mouth, he had to admit defeat.  
  
Draco moaned his approval and stretched out next to Potter, giving himself completely to his talented touches and skilled, perfect mouth.  
  
The Potions book lay forgotten on the floor.


End file.
